Permit, the fish you love to hate, the fish you cast at and before the fly hits the water….gone. Punta Allen, Mexico is the permit capital of the world. They declare it and I stand behind it. There are palometa everywhere. Everyone wants a permit on fly, whether they admit it or not. But if you want a fish to truly humble you go fish for them on the front of a panga. You think you are some sort of good trout caster, “I’ve fished everywhere,” --until you’ve played this game, you know you haven’t.

“100 feet, twelve O’Clock”

“I’ve got him”

Silence, hunting, pull it together!!!!

“Moving left to right, might be a backhand?”

I’ve got this “OK” do I have this?

These fish make your blood boil, they make you angry as you slap the fly right on top of their head, they make you work for it. They get the heartbeat going.

“When you’re ready, go”

Here I go

“Short and behind”

I SUCK at fishing!

But…every once in a while the stars align. God throws you a softball, or you’re just plain lucky and you put down a cast (finally a decent presentation). Your strip is just perfect to make your crab pattern actually look just enough like a real one that the fish follows. Finally the line tightens up and there is a wild animal on the other end of your line. For me it was day three, the last day. Three days of permit fishing. I probably cast at 30 palometa. Iwas in the game with 50% of them and the other 50% either lined them, was behind them or just straight up spooked them. All it takes is that one though, the one that keeps you coming back, the one that makes the trip.

Punta Allen is that place, permit capital of the world, I’ll be back to chase those crazy fish...